The Upper Hand
by Nigiri Ashika
Summary: A young university dropout finds out that not only is she a witch, she is possibly the most powerful witch of her generation. But she's too old to begin her education in magic. After imbibing a special potion of youth, she becomes the oldest first-year in Hogwarts history. Obviously AU, as Hermione was born eight years early. Rating subject to change.


**[Trigger Warning]** Hermione's mother is an N. Writing this didn't trigger me, but it may trigger you if you've been raised by a narcissist. While she is not a main character in the story, she will not be gone after one chapter as a throwaway.

**Author's Note:** Looking over my previous stories, I'm no good at keeping promises of updating or even finishing stories. I would like to continue this story to its finish, but I may not. If you like the premise, feel free to use it. Also, my i key is busted, so let me know if I miss an i and it bugs you.

* * *

Her head hung heavily. She trudged across the threshold, a ball of paper in her tightened fist. The woman on the sofa turned from the television and, noticing her daughter's stance, stiffened her back.

"So, how did you do?" the mother asked, a disapproving tone seeping into the queston. _Of course she knows._

The paper ball bounced off the woman's lap and rolled across the floor. Her eyebrows shot up, and then her gaze narrowed as the slouching figure silently disappeared behind a bedroom door. It was beneath her to remove the mess her horrible daughter had left, so she glared at it, willing it to roll away. The corner of a letter in red ink was visible in the creases, and she caught herself craning her head to read it. Eventually, she picked up the failed test and brought it back to her desk, where she began to write furiously.

* * *

Once safe in her bedroom, with door locked and bookbag cast aside, the girl fell to her knees. The friction from the rough carpet burned against her skin, and the minor pain awakened her tears. This had been her last chance. Upon this failing grade, she was no longer a student of the Saint Hubert's University for Women. The few credits she had earned in her three years at university, the seven meetings with administrators of decreasing importance, and the fourteen hours she'd spent studying every day for the past week for this test no longer held value. It was all a waste.

Maybe her mother had been correct. Perhaps she had chosen to pursue a degree in advanced mathematics because she wasn't smart enough for dentistry. At this point, she wondered if she'd have been better off selling drills.

Around the time her spiral of self-loathing had achieved the realization that she wouldn't even make a passable housewife because her hair was too frizzy, there was a tapping on her window.

* * *

As dark as it may have been inside her head, the sky had yet to match- it was early evening if one was being generous, and several hours before owls would normally awaken. Nonetheless, there was definitely an barn owl tapping on her window. Unsure what to do, the girl waved.

The owl tilted its head, and then tapped twice, deliberately, while maintaining eye contact. A shudder went through her spine as a desire to understand the situation overcame her. She stood and obeyed the implied request, opening the window, and then standing aside as the owl flew into the small bedroom. The nightbird circled the room three times before dropping a folded piece of paper on her desk. As she approached the paper, the owl landed on her shoulder and began nibbling on the messy bun barely restraining her hair.

The paper, upon close inspection, was an envelope with no return address and no stamp. The recipient address, however, was written clearly in green ink.

_Miss Hermione Granger_

_Bedroom on the left_

On the reverse of the envelope, a glod of red wax had been pressed with a coat of arms. She slid her nail beneath the wax, preserving the seal, and opened the envelope. Within, she found a folded piece of parchment. The owl began nuzzling her ear.

_Dear Ms Granger,_

_ I write you in desperation._

_ Despite my predecessor's misguided decision against inviting you to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry when you reached your eleventh year, the magical world requires a muggleborn of your powers to save it._

_ As I am sure you aren't aware, you are a witch. In fact, you are one of the most powerful witches of recent generations. I only hope that the neglect your magic has suffered at the hands of a magical world that was not ready to receive you has not caused permanent damage._

_ I am sure that a simple letter will not have such a scientific mind convinced of the existence of a hidden magical world without further evidence, so I would like to meet with you personally at your leisure._

_Sincerely,_

_ Minerva McGonagall_

_ Headmistress_

_ Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_PS: Whilst I have little choice in contacting you and requesting your aide, you, of course, do have a choice. What I am asking of you is no small task, and will require years of effort, as well as having a very high chance of failure and possibly death. All that I require is that you hear me out and consider my offer honestly and without bias. Please send your reply with this owl._

The girl was absently petting the owl as she finished the letter.

Someone was taking the piss.

She sat at her desk and began sketching a draft of her response. Unsatisfied with the wording of the first draft, she wrote the note again. In the midst of the third re-write, a piece of paper was shoved under the gap below her door and then wiggled around. The shuffling paper broke her reverie and she put down her pen.

_My dearest darling daughter Hermione,_

_ These past twenty years, I have been a doting mother. I have given you everything you ever wished for, from my most fashionable clothing to every diet pill one could want to free dentistry (and believe me, you needed all of it.)_

Hermione touched her perfect teeth absently, biting her thumb.

_When your father abandoned me, I reached an awakening in myself. I realized that I spent too much of my life taking care of others, to my own detriment. I needed to stop being walked upon. In other relationships, my needs were accepted. Friends have told me "you go girl" and other such things when I've told them my plan to become an independent and empowered human being. Some of those friendships, I have had to end because while they supported my goals they did not actually understand that I required better behaviour of them to better myself._

_ As your mother, I have allowed you to continue manipulating me in hopes that the bond we share would better you as a human being. To my dismay, I have slowly awakened to the fact that I cannot save you from the horrid wretch that you have become (thanks, mostly, I'm sure, to your father) and that being around you only brings me down._

_ I have spoken to Mrs Dougal down the road, as she has been trying to convince her son Jeremaiah to move out of the house for several years, and he will be renting your bedroom beginning this weekend. Make sure that when you leave, your ridiculous math texts (a reminiscence of my failure) must not be left behind. I do not wish to see you again, so please spend the next few hours packing, and wait until I have gone to bed before you leave. I paid for the furniture, neither remove nor damage it._

_Your loving Mother_

Hermione looked at the half-written note on her desk, her rejection of the prank by whoever this Minerva McGonagall was, and threw it into the trash next to her- no, her mother's- desk. She began writing again, and without rewrites, drafts, or copy-editing, she folded the finished message and held it towards the owl on her shoulder. The owl took the paper in its beak, and placed it in a pouch tied to its leg before flying out the window.

_Professor McGonagall_

_ Because your letter reached me, I assume you know where I live. I no longer have a home here, and would be happy to embark on whatever ridiculously suicidal endeavours you have to offer. My mother has asked that I not bother her, nor leave my room before she has gone to bed. Therefore, feel free to come any time. I'll be in my bedroom._

_-Hermione_


End file.
